by Celeste Raye
He looked away. The sun came in through the windows and lit up his face. “Christy, is there any way we could have something together?”
Say yes. Say you want to find out. She took a deep breath, trying to tamp down those thoughts careening through her brain and the desire to utter them. They could never have anything. She did not want a child. She did not want to live there in that place. She wanted to go home. He could find someone, a woman who wanted all the things he offered.
There were humans, both men and women, who came searching for that place. She had met many of them. She knew that Blake had not hit it off with any of the women who had come through looking for that world but he might, one day. He might, and that woman might be willing to bear his child. He would find himself adrift from her because no matter what, that need to preserve his line was still the biggest thing on his mind. It was the one thing he had not budged on and never would.
She said, “No. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want…” She could not say that she did not want him. She did, and so much. But they were too different. They wanted such different things. “I have to go home,” she finished lamely.
He looked at his feet. The sun haloed around his golden head now and she felt her heart throb painfully. How she wanted to step closer to him, run her hands through that slightly coarse and crisp hair, tug his face up to hers and kiss him so hard that her head would spin.
She wrapped her arms around her body. Her eyes ached with the need to shed tears she knew she could not shed. Everything inside her said that he was the one, the one she was supposed to be with. But there was no way that they could be together.
She could never be a mother, never be happy with a man who wanted her because he wanted a child, and not because he wanted her.
Blake said, in a voice lacking any inflection or emotion. “They will be here soon to take you and Heather back through the portal.”
The silence spun out, long and awkward. Her emotions were a tangled mess she could not unravel or make sense of. She wanted to go. She wanted to stay. She wanted him. She wanted to run away from him as fast as she could.
He turned and walked out, closing the door softly behind himself and Christy felt the hard knots of tension in her body growing tighter and thicker as she stared at the door, knowing all she had to do was go through it, go to him, tell him everything and that she wanted to stay. That she had no idea what to do. That she was scared he was the perfect man for her. That she was scared she was the wrong woman for him.
In the end, she did nothing, just stood there forcing herself to hold the tears at bay.
Heather appeared and took her hand. “They said we need to go to the roof now.”
Christy did her best to summon up a smile. Her eyes searched Heather’s face and all she saw was the same hurt and confusion that she was sure was written on her own face. She said, “I’m sorry, Heather, really I am.”
She was. Heather loved Max, and she had made no bones about it, at least not to her. She had hidden it from Max though. Christy looked away from the pain on Heather’s face because it just made her want to cry all over again and she knew if she started, then Heather would, and they just might talk each other into staying.
The Orcs were dangerous. Max was sending Heather back because he feared for her life. Heather did not want to go but Max would not ask her to stay, and Heather was afraid to ask. Christy knew that the two of them were in the same boat. They’d both fallen in love, and now they were having to leave, and they were going home with scarred hearts and tears hovering.
She said, in an attempt at levity, “Remind me never to use another dating app as long as I live.”
The ghost of a smile played on Heather’s lips, but it vanished quickly. She said, “Yeah. I’ll kill you if you ever sign me up for one again.”
Christy hugged her. They stood there, neither of them speaking. There was nothing that they could say to each other to make it better and the men they wanted to say things to had already flown off on some mission to scout out where the Orcs were and to get an idea of how many they would be fighting against.
Heather said, “Maybe we really should take some of the diamonds.”
Christy laughed, but it was short and too sharp. “Yeah. But no. I don’t want to take anything from here.”
She also didn’t want to leave anything behind, but she was. Her heart was there, in the hands of the dragon called Blake, in the palms of a man who wanted her for something she could never give him.
They left the room and went to the roof. The two younger dragons were there, their faces solemn. Christy climbed up and could not help but notice that that dragon brought up no feelings of freedom and desire in her. They flew, and even the flight felt flat and depressing instead of exciting and wonderful.
The portal opened, its colors pulsing and its mouth opening to take them. Christy closed her eyes and the sound of the wind beat against her ears. The wind tore at her hair and clothes. There was a soft ripping sound and then she smelled car exhaust and heard noise, a loud din that that made her want to clap her hands over her ears.
She was home.
They landed back in their world many weeks after they had left and everything was so messed up that Christy had plenty of things to focus on, but none of them were enough to keep her from missing Blake so much that it was a hard, physical ache.
She’d been gone too long, and she had lost her job, as had Heather. They had managed to get Heather’s things from a storage locker at her former building, and they had begun living together in Christy’s loft. The loft she had loved so much but which now seemed too shiny, too sharp and modern. Everything in it, the granite counters and the gleaming tile and hardwood floors, the wide windows that looked out over the massive skyline, had all felt so right when she had gotten that place but it all felt alien and wrong then.
She slogged through the days, doing her best to keep her heartache at bay. She put in her resume everywhere, as did Heather but there was no job available. Her spirits fell daily and if Heather had not been there for her to lean on, she was certain she would have just crumbled.
She was walking home one day, her heart as flat as her wallet, when she remembered something. One of the women who had come to Dragon world was from the city. She had used some kind of door she had found in an abandoned house that looked like a castle a few miles away from the street that Christy’s apartment sat upon.
What if she went back?
She sighed, her legs moving faster, as she tried to list off every reason that that was a dumb idea.
Blake did not want her. He wanted her to have a baby, and there was a big difference in those two things. There was no way she could go back; she had to figure out how to correct her life there in her own world. Besides, she had said no to him, to their ever having anything at all.
What had he meant by that?
That question was always on her mind. She had been too conflicted and torn that day, too intent on getting out before she got hurt, to really listen to him. Had he meant he wanted something with her or had he meant was there any chance she would concede and have a baby with him?
She stopped short as her building came into view. Her heart started beating so fast she was sure she was going to faint. Max! He stood there, in front of the building, and he was kissing Heather!
Was Blake there? Had he come to see her? Her footsteps sped up, and she raced up to where Heather and Max, too busy kissing to notice her, stood. She cleared her throat and spoke, and they broke apart, giving her slightly abashed and hugely goofy smiles.
Her eyes moved along the street, but Blake was nowhere in sight.
And she knew. Max had come for Heather, had come to tell her that he loved her and wanted her, but Blake had not come. He would not come. He would never come.
Her smile was pained and her heart even more agonized as she surveyed Heather’s rapt and happy face, and Max’s.
She fought back the words, the asking if Blake was there.
She could hardly breathe around those words and the hope that had already died, but still, stubbornly, wanted to come back to her.
Heather said, “Oh, I can’t leave! Christy…”
Christy made her lips turn upward. She made herself be happy for Heather getting the love of her life when all she had was the empty street and the emptiness of her heart. “You better go, girl,” she said through the pain. “I mean, he came all this way, and you know you want to. I’ll be fine.”
She wasn’t fine. She would never be fine again.
Chapter Eleven
Blake watched Max, with Heather on his back, land in the courtyard. His knuckles went white as he clutched at the sword and shield he held. His heart had gone off in a series of bangs and crashes when he had seen Max flying overhead. He’d hoped, he had hoped so much, that Christy would come back too. That she would decide she wanted to come back to him as well.
Why hadn’t he gone right along with Max? Why hadn’t he gone to her and asked her for one more chance, to just try to have something with him? Max had decided to go, to try to see if Heather still wanted him—but Max had had the advantage of knowing that Heather cared for him.
That made that venture of a lot less risky. If he had gone, well. Christy had made it very clear that she did not care for him, did not want him, and did not want to be in that world. He could not live in hers. He just could not do it. Her world was a place where he could not see himself because there he would never be able to just be himself.
He turned away from the sight of the happy couple. His rage started up, and most of it was directed at himself. He had let her go, and she was everything he had ever wanted. He knew that and he had known it almost from the first moment, but he had been unable to tell her so, even when it was time for her to leave, which would have been the perfect time to tell her. He could have, should have; he had given Max the advice that had sent Max into that other world in search of Heather, but he had not been able to take that advice himself.
He tossed the sword and shield aside and took to the skies. His wings beat the air, and he flew hard and fast, trying to outrun his pain, but no matter how hard he flew, it stayed there, lodged right into his heart.
He landed on a craggy outcropping and stood there. This was his kingdom; this was his place. He was a king here, but at that moment he felt like he had absolutely nothing.
He turned and headed down a sharp path, changing as he went. The graves of his family were nearby and he wanted to see them, to spend time at the small house his family had lived in before the last terrible wars that had caused the death of most of the human life on his world and all the dragons to take up residence in the castle, the one spot where they could defend themselves and what was left of the humans.
The house was just below: a small stone structure tucked into a long expanse of lovely grass and wildflowers. He ignored it for the moment and walked into the small shady glen just beyond. The trees were old and tall and the sun filtered through them, landing on the ground in dapples of light that he had always thought were beautiful.
His parents had been buried side by side, and he took a seat on the grass, staring at the plain stones that marked their graves. His brother was beside them. The Orcs had come, and his father had been away, fighting hard. Blake had been young, but older than his brother, and when the three dozen Orcs and the trolls had come from the woods, they had surrounded that house, knowing it was the home of dragons.
His mother and brother and he had all fought hard. They had battled with everything in them, but in the end, it had not been enough. His mother had died of her wounds, and his brother had died from the brutal clubs of the Orcs. Blake, battered and broken and bleeding, had managed to kill the troll and the last Orc, but it had been an act of revenge, not salvation. His father had come in time to hold his wife as she died.
It had been the deaths of his family that had caused Blake’s father to go after the traitor dragon, the one who had set the Orcs and the trolls and other evil creatures that had existed then to killing off the dragons and humans in their houses, that had forced them all to move away and into the castle.
The other dragons wanted to punish him, but they had not been able to bring themselves to go against the law that was supposed to keep them friends rather than enemies.
His father had drawn his sword that day, standing there in the hall of that castle, and killed that dragon without a single moment’s hesitation. He had simply said it must be done. To protect their world and the world from which Christy had come. That if he was to break the law, he would break it for honor and to protect those he had always sworn to protect.
And that edict had rolled down.
Blake knew his father had had little left to live for. He had loved his wife, Blake’s mother, for centuries. She too had once been human and been cursed because of the way she had helped to fight that wizard. She’d had magic even as a human and she had stood against that wizard, firing off spell after spell at him and helping those who would become dragons stay alive with those spells, helping them get close enough to kill him.
That was what he wanted: love. He wanted love, and he wanted it with a woman who would stand beside him and fight next to him, one who would love him as fiercely as he loved her and he had really hoped that that woman would be Christy.
“You should have been here to meet her,” he said softly to the graves of his family. “She’s beautiful and strong. She’s fierce, and she’s…” She’s prefect, but for her to be perfect for me, she has to want me.
He stood, his shoulders slumping. She did not want him. He had to deal with the impending war now, but after, well, after maybe he would try again. He would go into that world and try again to find a mate. And he was damn sure not trusting human technology to help him either!
He looked toward the house and then changed, deciding to fly instead. He took the air with a powerful upward thrust of his body and wings, and he found a current of air and stayed aloft easily, just drifting along the updrafts. His thoughts were so centered on his heartache he did not really pay much attention to what was happening below him.
He heard a scream and looked down, his brows drawing together. There was a human girl running through a field, her long hair trailing behind her. A human man was chasing her. What was happening? He lowered towards the wind, swooping down to rescue her, but just as his shadow started showing on the earth, the man caught her and she turned to face him with a laugh and shriek, and their lips met.
Blake soared upward again. His shadow fell over the pair, and they broke the kiss off and looked up at him. He ignored them, had to ignore them because the sight of them embracing reminded him all over again of just what it was that he had hoped for with Christy, and had lost because he had not known how to tell her exactly what it was that he wanted—and because she, unlike the woman below, was not running just so she could be caught.
She was running because she didn’t want him.
Chapter Twelve
“What the hell am I doing?”
The words came from her mouth in a low hiss as Christy took a long breath and then set off down the street she had spent half the morning and a good bit of cash trying to find. She’d had to hop boroughs and take both cabs and buses to do it. She was frustrated and angry, and she was tired as hell to boot. What’s more, she was sure she was on some kind of wild goose chase that was going to see her going home much poorer and no closer to finding out if what she had been told about a doorway that led into Dragon world was even true.
She was walking past a bunch of burned out warehouses and a dingy industrial strip that held no open businesses. Her nerves went taut, and she pulled the collar of her light jacket up higher around her neck, ducking her head and trying to give off the impression of being tough, of being mean just in case anyone was watching her.
If there was, she did not see them. The whole street had a deserted air, one that made her want to turn away and run away all at the same time.
Finally, she spotted it. The house did look a bit like a castle. It had been built over a hundred and fifty years ago by an eccentric millionaire who had never lived in it. Supposedly he had pined away for a wife that had died before the movers could show up and move them into it.
Whatever the case, it was a crumbling wreck with a sagging door that had once been painted red, but that color was faded, and the limestone façade had the saggy, crumpled look it got right before a building collapsed.
“I must be out of my goddamn mind,” Christy muttered as she stepped into the abandoned building. Cobwebs coated the corners, and the dust was so thick that the windows were obscured by it. The grime and grit were bad enough. The dimness was worse. She took her cell phone out and held it up, using her flashlight app to try to pick out her path through the place. She’d listened hard when the few people who had chosen to go to Dragon world had talked of it and how but she hadn’t counted on it being that creepy or discouraging.
The place looked like it might fall down at any time and she was really afraid it would. The floors were covered in what looked like centuries of garbage, and the walls were not just crumbling but sagging too.
She chewed her lips. Was the building the right one? She was sure it was, but she was worried she might have gotten it wrong too. What if she was wrong and she tried to get through to his world, to Blake, and only ended up running into a literal wall? Or worse, through one?
It was possible, given the condition of the place.
She shone that light around, hoping to see anything at all that would help her find a path but all she saw was dust and debris and grime. She sighed, maybe this was not such a great idea after all.
